The Devil Colony(92)

Gray nodded. “No doubt.”

“Eventually the shaman returned with proof. Making sure that what transpired was cloaked in great secrecy, he demonstrated evidence of a technology that baffled and astounded Franklin and Jefferson.” Heisman turned to his assistant. “Sharyn . . . could you read that passage?”

“One moment.” She shifted pages, found the right one, and read. “ ‘They came with a gold that would not melt, weapons of a steel that no Indian had ever wielded, but most important, with a silvery dry elixir a very pinch of which was a thousandfold more powerful than a mountain of black powder.’ ”

Gray shared a look with Seichan. The immutable gold had to be the same metal as they had seen on the tablets. It was far denser and harder than ordinary gold. And the silvery dry elixir . . . could that be the source of the powerful explosions that had been witnessed in both Utah and Iceland?

Heisman continued, “Because the Iroquois Confederacy very much wanted to be part of the new nation, they were trying to broker a deal.”

“For the Fourteenth Colony,” Gray added.

“The Devil Colony, yes. The negotiations, though held in secret, were fairly well along. It would be a trade. The Iroquois Confederacy even staked out its territory.” He turned, but this time Sharyn was ready.

“ ‘They wished to possess a great land beyond the French territories, lands unexplored and unclaimed, wishing not to threaten the growing interest of the colonists to the east. The Iroquois would give up their old lands and their great secret knowledge in exchange for a permanent new home and a solid stake in this new nation. Additionally, it was ascertained through private meetings with Chief Canasatego that at the heart of the Indian colony was a lost city, the source of these miraculous materials. But of that place’s location, they remained duly cryptic.’ ”

As his assistant read the translation, Heisman slid an open atlas across the table. It displayed an old map of the United States. He poked at a shaded section that spread northward from New Orleans in a V shape, covering most of what would later be the middle of the country. “Here are the lands bought from the French by Jefferson.”

“The Louisiana Purchase,” Gray said.

“From the journal entry, I think the proposed Fourteenth Colony desired by the Indians must lie somewhere west of the Purchase. But Archard never goes into any more detail on where exactly it was. There’s only one tangential mention.”

“What was it?” Seichan asked.

“After Archard unearthed that Indian map at the serpent mound, he determined the metal of the map was composed of the same strange gold. And on that map were marked two spots.”

“Iceland was one of them,” Gray muttered, plainly working the puzzle in his head.

“That’s right. The second was far out to the west. Archard believed that the site marked in the Western territories might be the location of that lost city, the proposed heart of the new colony. But it was too far west—off in uncharted lands of that time—and the map apparently was not precise enough on the details, so Archard decided to investigate Iceland first, as that sea journey was well charted by sailors.”

Gray leaned back. “I don’t suppose the Frenchman thought to make a copy of that map to include with his journal?”

“No. According to Archard, Thomas Jefferson kept the map a great secret. He would not let anyone but his inner circle see it. No copies were to be made.”

Seichan understood his caution. The president must have feared his unknown enemy and didn’t realize how badly his government had already been infiltrated. Mistrust and paranoia. Yes, she could easily put herself in Jefferson’s shoes.

“What became of the map?” Gray asked.

Heisman only had to turn to his assistant.

Sharyn read, “ ‘Ever crafty, Jefferson devised a way to preserve the Indian map, to protect it, yet keep it forever out of the hands of the faceless enemy. He would use the very gold to hide it in plain view of all. None would suspect the treasure hidden at the heart of the Seal.’ ”

Gray frowned. “What does that mean?”

Heisman shrugged. “He never elaborates. That’s pretty much the first half of the journal. We’re still working on translating the second half, starting with Archard’s secret mission by sea to Iceland.”

Gray’s phone rang. “Sorry,” he said, and checked who was calling.

Seichan again noted the flicker of worry shine brighter, always hidden just under the surface. He let out a small sigh of relief, though he was probably not even aware of it.

“It’s Monk,” he said quietly to her. “I’d better take this outside.”